


After a lifetime

by keepcalmanddonotblink, MashiarasDream



Series: Hello, Dean [6]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M, after you deserve to be saved, after you have to choose Castiel, kind of happy end, looong after S9, post s9, saying goodbye
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-21
Updated: 2014-09-21
Packaged: 2018-02-18 06:22:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,648
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2338349
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/keepcalmanddonotblink/pseuds/keepcalmanddonotblink, https://archiveofourown.org/users/MashiarasDream/pseuds/MashiarasDream
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Like a miracle Dean got old, but now his time has come. Is he for once going to get what he wants?</p>
            </blockquote>





	After a lifetime

**Author's Note:**

> After MashairasDream wrote for me the amazing story first part of this series, I had to write a sequel.  
> \- But it was MashairasDream who made it perfect. (Kodus to her!)

His whole body shakes as he has another coughing fit. Dean never thought he would experience the side-effects of getting old, getting THIS old.  
“You alright?” Sammy’s voice is full of worry and Dean smiles weakly.  
“As alright as I can be.”  
A familiar silence fills the room. Dean lying here in his bed, Sam right next to him, watching over him like the mother-hen he’s always been. But Dean has stopped complaining long before he got sick. 

There is nothing left to say now. Not really. But as Dean regards his little brother, sees all the crinkles, his still fabulous hair all grey, all the years on Sammy’s face, he just can't help it.  
“We made it, Sammy. We really made it.”  
“What?”  
“We survived. We lived. We closed hell for good, heaven is back in order, too, there are hardly any monsters left AND you got your dog.”  
Sammy’s laughter fills the air. Dean likes this sound.  
“Yeah, like the dog is the most important thing I got.”  
“Well, alright, Mary Ellen is more important than all of you put together. I have no idea how she turned out this good, seeing she’s your daughter.”  
Sammy laughs at this: “Cause I raise her right, you jerk. Also, I’m still not over the fact that you gave the Impala to her and not me, you traitor.”  
Fond memories flood Dean’s mind. The first time he held his niece in his arms, the first time she took a step in his direction, the first time she called him “’Eeeen”, the first time he took her for a ride...  
After all, Sam really found a perfect wife and got a perfect daughter, and it makes Dean more than happy. At least one Winchester found love in this life.  
Familiar thoughts of dark crumpled hair and bright blue eyes creep in and Dean does his best to quench them before he can tangle himself up in the sadness and guilt that always follows them during the day. 

“I am glad, Sam. I am glad you have your family. You won't be alone when I am gone.” Dean says instead.  
His brother just shakes his head: “Don't say that. You still have time.”  
“Come on, Sammy. We both know I already got a lot more time than I ever should have had. A lot more happy times than I deserved, too. After what I’ve done…” His voice breaks as another coughing fit wrecks his body. Sam lays a hand on his shoulder, an annoying habit he’s taken up ever since Dean got sick. Problem is, it actually does help calm him down. Only, he wants no comfort.

“I don't want to hear any excuses for what I’ve done. Please, Sammy. I can’t ever make up for that. But –“, damn, he gets sappier the older he gets, “but I am thankful for the happy days I got. I got a debt to you there that I can’t repay. You made it worth living in the end. Don’t think I’ve said thank you for that before…”, cause for the longest time he hadn’t been sure he actually was thankful for it, thinking it might have been better to just throw himself into the angel blade and be over with it. But then he’d never have met Mary Ellen. And that would have sucked. “So, Sammy, thank you for saving me when I was lost.”  
“Dean..”, Sam's voice is small as if no time has passed at all since those horrible days. No idea how he’s doing it, but even looking down to Dean on his pillows, Sam manages to look like he’s really looking up, like back in those times when Dean literally was the big brother: “Yeah, I know what you’re saying, dude. But what the hell happened to no chick-flick moments?”  
“Bitch!”  
“Jerk!”  
Dean chuckles though it turns into a cough again. Some things never change and he doesn't know who to thank for it. He feels his mind drifting, sleep reaching for him. Damn, he’s always so tired these days.  
“You know what, Sammy, no chick flick moments be damned. Thank you for being the best brother ever”, Dean murmurs.  
Before he drifts into sleep he can hear Sam say “You too, big brother. You too.” 

When he wakes up again it is the middle of the night. The chair next to him is empty. A few minutes he just lies there, letting the loneliness of the room seep into him. With every passing minute, the certainty in his gut grows. It is nearly time. Only a few short hours left. He doesn't know how he can tell. Maybe he has crossed this bridge so many times before that he now knows when Death is waiting for him. He wonders if he will come personally and this thought makes him smile. At least Death has good taste in pizza. Can’t say that for most of the Reapers. 

“Hey Cas... “, he whispers into the dark room. A small smile even spreads on his face when he almost feels piercing blue eyes staring into him from way too close. Cas never did get that personal space thing. “This is it, Cas. I will be gone soon. For good this time.” It’s not praying so much anymore. And how could he? How could he be praying to him after - even his thoughts stumble on the word – after killing him. Torturing and killing him. He has no right to pray to him. But he can’t be completely without him, either. So he started talking to him a few months after. And he’s been talking to him every night since.  
“I hope I will see everybody again. Mum and Dad, Ellen and Jo, Kevin and his mum, Bobby and Jody, Benny, Ash... you know, the whole list. But... you know... I know I got no right to this.” Not that he thinks he has a right to go to Heaven. But the angels promised, after that whole ordeal with restoring order to the realms above and below. And even though he doesn’t trust those bastards, he doesn’t think that they’d double-cross him on something like this, either. 

“I got no right to hope and I guess you wouldn’t even want to see me, so… well, I won’t pray to see you again even though there’s nothing I want more. But I pray that you made it to heaven. I pray every night, every day. But you know what, Cas, it would be damn sweet to hear your stupid voice again.” The memory of Cas’ broken body, blood-shot eyes locking on his and a “Hello Dean” that had no voice to it at all, threaten to overwhelm him, so he quickly rasps on.  
“And I want to see your head doing that stupid tilt to the side and I want so many things... and dude, I’m sorry, but it’s going to suck coming to heaven and not finding you there. I am not afraid of dying. Been there, done that. And you know what, I had a good life after all. An unbelievably long life, too…all things considered. But –“, his voice breaks again and he has to calm himself down before he can go on, voice so low he can hardly hear his own words. But he doesn’t dare say this any louder. “But I can't stand the thought of not seeing you again. I wish I could tell you all the fucking things I never said. Cas... I got no right, I know. But I need you to be there. I need you to be in my heaven. I need you to be waiting for me. I need you, Cas. I just need you.”  
Another coughing fit rattles his body and his voice breaks down for good, he can't speak any further.  
It doesn't matter anyway, he has said his piece. 

The room is silent again, the darkness surrounding him like a blanket. He knows that he just has to close his eyes and Death will find him. But Dean holds on. He doesn't want to be alone when he goes, even if he would never admit that to anyone. And he’s gotta say goodbye, too.  
There is a knock on the door and as if he has read his mind Sam comes in and walks over to his bed.  
“You’re awake.” It's more a statement than a question. “I had this strange feeling that I should be here with you.” Sam’s brow is furrowed with worry.  
Dean just nods. Figures that Sammy would know when Dean’s time comes, too. “Thank you, Sammy.”  
His little brother nods, turns on the bed light and sits down next to him, taking his hand and smiling softly.  
Dean’s breathing is raspy and there is pain with every breath now. By the look on Sammy’s face, he’s noticed it too.  
“Dean, it's okay. You don’t need to hold on just for my sake. I never wanted to lose you and I still don't want to, but you know what? I’ll be okay. I’ll be okay down here for a little while longer. Because I know for a fact that we will see each other again. And everyone is probably waiting for you up there. We lived a good life, you know. In the end, it was a good life. You can go now and tell everyone up there that we made it. You can go and tell them how we screwed destiny, fought for free will and how we chose family. You can tell them the whole damn story. Because you know what? We did good.”

“And how long have you been preparing _this_ speech, Sammy?” It takes effort to get the sentence out, but Dean still manages a grin and his brother shakes his head.  
“You just can't help it, can you? Dean... I am glad you never really changed.”  
“That's because I am awesome.” With the biggest grin on his face that he can muster, he looks at his brother, still holding his hand, still here right next to him. He can feel the darkness creeping in and he knows that it is time. That he is ready.  
But there is still one thing he has to say. One last thing before he can finally leave this life behind.  
“Sammy... I am proud of us. I really am.”  
“Me too. I am proud, too.” Sammy still smiles, but Dean can hear the tears already creeping into his voice. But that’s okay. Because his brother is going to be okay. Because he has a family and because he’s strong. So it’s okay for Dean to let go. It’s okay to finally stop fighting.  
And with that his mind fades to black.

###### 

He opens his eyes. “Hello, old friend”, Death greets him and Dean can't help but smile.  
“You really came in person.” His voice sounds strong, stronger than it has in years and the constant pain that accompanied the last few months is gone.  
“Well, I haven’t had a pizza in a while. And I believe that you have a passion for junk food. So I thought I’d treat us to some pizza before you move on.” The world spins and suddenly they are in a familiar place from a time long ago.  
“Jesus Christ on a flatbread. Is this Chicago?” Dean asks stunned. No matter what, he will never get used to this way of travel.  
“You remember. Good. Now, let's eat and chat a little.”  
He guesses there aren’t many people who can claim that they’ve done what he’s doing, eating pizza with Death, talking about his life and the memories they share and how many times Death has collected him before, but for Dean it's just a summary of his whole life. He’s hated it at times, sure, the supernatural craziness. But now it’s also an odd comfort.  
“But enough of that. I guess you want to see your loved ones again. Don't you?” Death finally says. “Damn right I want that.” Dean says and a smile spreads on his face.  
“But there is one... well, let's say, I believe there is a person who you want to see the most.”, Death teases. 

Dean’s heart pounds suddenly very fast, although he always believed that would be different when someone is dead. But he still can feel it, can feel his heart ache.  
“I believe you remember him from a time that you looked like this.” Death points at Dean and when Dean looks down at himself, he’s not in the flannel pyjamas anymore that he wore when he died. Instead, his old leather jacket creaks around his shoulders and his faded blue jeans fit more comfortably than they have in years. More shockingly, when he looks at his hands, they are young and strong, the wrinkles and moles that come with old age gone.  
“Yeah”, he creaks out hoarsely. “Yeah, that’s about right.”  
“Angels don’t get a heaven of their own, Dean, not like humans”, Death says softly and if he thought the old man had in him, maybe even tenderly.  
The little spark of hope in his chest disintegrates. “Oh.”  
Death smiles: “You’ve always been so rash. Jumping to conclusions. What I’m trying to say is - he was human when he died. Well, practically human. There was no Grace left in him. So there – has been an exception made. Orders from high above. He was given the possibility to chose. This was his last challenge but also a gift to him. And he chose you, so I guess it's a gift to you too. I believe he is waiting. Right behind that door.”  
Death stands up and points to a door Dean could swear hadn’t been there a moment ago. “We haven’t always seen eye to eye, but I did enjoy our little deep-dish pizza outings. I hope you enjoy your afterlife, Dean. We will not see each other again. Goodbye.”  
And before he can even answer, Death is gone, leaving Dean behind. 

Suddenly his mouth is dry, the taste of pizza forgotten. Slowly, he stands. So many years. What if? But Death said that Cas was waiting, right? So that means he wants to see him, right? And Death said it was a gift to both of them. He crosses the few steps across the room and reaches for the door. Everything seems to go so slowly and he still can’t believe that he will see him again, that he really is here, that he is waiting for him. Cas...  
His heart is hammering in his chest, excitement and hope blending into an exhilarating mix, when he finally gathers his courage and opens the door.  
There’s a garden behind it, of course there’s a garden, where else would Cas be than surrounded by beautiful trees and flowers and bees. He sucks in a deep breath of the fresh air and – that’s not flowers. That’s apple pie that he smells on the air. He turns around, searching 360 degrees, and sure as hell there is no door behind him anymore. Instead there is a wide meadow. And on it there is a plaid blanket. And on the blanket the biggest apple pie that he’s ever seen. His heart misses a beat when he looks up from the apple pie to the man who has been kneeling on the blanket but is now getting up to come over and greet him. He can’t stop the wide smile from spreading on his face and before he knows it, he’s half running towards him, stopping only when he’s so close that he could brush his hand over his arm. But he doesn’t. Not yet. “Cas...” It sounds so different now, Cas’ name, when he can say it to him instead of to the night and when a smile is spreading over Cas’ face, too.  
“Hello, Dean.” 


End file.
